


Under Falling Snow: Golden Ring

by TheFloralFox



Series: Snowy SeungChuChu [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Background Otayuri, Background Victuuri - Freeform, Friendship, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, POV First Person, Romance, radio show au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFloralFox/pseuds/TheFloralFox
Summary: First comes love, then comes the proposal! To Seung Gil, Phichit deserves the world, even if he isn’t sure how to give him that band of gold. The time is now, however, and Seung Gil isn’t about to give up.





	Under Falling Snow: Golden Ring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdlife4eva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdlife4eva/gifts).



> Back so soon XD Before I anticipated, actually, cuz I’m still working on my full length DnA fic, but this wanted to be written and here it is hahha This is a oneshot sequel to my last piece from Seung Gil's POV, so it’ll make the most sense if you’ve read that one already. If you haven’t, this fic can stand alone with this knowledge: Seung Gil and Phichit have been dating a while and live together; they have a puppy named Coal; Otabek is Seung Gil’s coworker and friend; Phichit works part time as a marriage/family counselor, part time as a radio talk show host; Yuuri, Yuri and Mila work at the station, too. Everyone is aged up here, our main pairing being 29. I felt like there was more to write for this AU, this ship, so here’s a little something for you, Nerd, and all the fans/supporters of this fic~

Getting the ring was easy. I dragged Otabek and Yuuri with me to the jeweler, practically bouncing in the driver seat with excitement. There weren’t many designs that stood out to me after we started browsing, and it became clear that only one in particular was the right choice when all three of us pointed to it in an unspoken agreement. From the start, I could tell Phichit would never fade into a crowd; he’s the center of attention wherever he goes without even trying and isn’t afraid of all eyes on him. He wears the spotlight well, like a custom suit. What took a little longer for me to understand about him is that his brightness is absurdly genuine: none of that smile, that laugh or that energy is fake or forced. Somehow, he’s both down to earth and flashy and while I’ll never get how, I appreciate and adore it. This is why I knew the gold band with a row of inset diamonds was the ring for him: it sparkles but doesn’t blind.

Even hanging out with Yuuri and Otabek afterward was easy, especially since they offered to buy drinks. Yeah, I was a little worn out and wanted to go home, but they did help me and are usually good company, so I didn’t object. I managed my intake well so I stayed away from making a fool of myself, only hugging on O and holding Yuuri’s hand once or twice. The others weren’t as responsible as I was, but I didn’t mind. I mean, listening to an unfiltered Yuuri make Otabek giggle over anecdotes without purpose was pretty entertaining. Yuuri kept all his clothes on this time, probably because he wasn’t with his husband, and Otabek didn’t shout song requests at no one in particular, probably because we could barely hear the music in the first place. Sobering up wasn’t hard, either. We only stayed a bit longer for water and food so I could fully sober up and drive us all back to our homes, tired and holding onto an extra-large secret. Phichit was tired when he came home from work that day and surprised me by bringing home dinner; I almost asked him to marry me right then and there, but I didn’t. I should have, though, because now I’m wandering unfamiliar territory without a map.

Proposing is not easy.

How does one find the right words, the right setting? I’ve been holding onto this ring for some time, and I really think I should ask tonight; I want him to be my husband, damnit, but just asking straight out doesn’t seem right: he deserves more than that. Yuuri picked Phichit up earlier for yoga, giving me time to think something through. So far, I made dinner reservations at one of Phichit’s favorite restaurants. As soon as I ended the call, however, I started to wonder if that’ll be enough. I sigh, scooping my puppy onto my lap; a brief wave of sadness hits me when I remember she won’t always be this easy to lift. “Coal, I don’t know what to do.” I mutter into the soft fur on her head. “Should we go dancing? Maybe we’ll do something fun before we go eat.” I consider out loud. “Maybe we can go for a walk in the city. The fountain in the park should be running again now that it’s spring.” Would Phichit like a public proposal? Perhaps it’d be best to wait for our walk to get down on one knee rather than do it at dinner. Ugh, shit, I don’t know. With a groan, I drag Coal to my chest and lie down the length of the sofa.

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone going off, alerting me of a message. I fumble over the arm of the couch, groping around the side table for the nagging device. Looks like there’s a photo from Victor of a chew toy on the patio at his house. Another message follows: ‘Coal left this :((( Hope she doesn’t miss it too much!’

Oh, from the puppy playdate the other day; Phichit must’ve left it when he picked her up from Yuuri and Victor’s. Coal adores their poodle, so it’s not like she’ll never see the toy again. I reply: ‘Nah, she’s too busy with this apron she found in the laundry room. All the expensive toys and she goes for a random rag.’

‘Lol they do that! Ok, it’s here for next time~’

The backyard at Victor’s is bigger than the one Phichit and I have; he and Yuuri sure know how to spoil their pets. I’ve been told they had the dogs in their wedding party with bow ties to match their color scheme. I’m guessing that idea was not mentioned in the proposal, but what was? Exhaling, I decide some outside insight on this whole proposal matter can’t hurt. That, and I’m also nearing desperate for ideas. ‘Thanks. So, something random: how did Yuuri ask you to marry him?’ All I know is that Victor didn’t hesitate to tell the world that he was engaged via photo spamming his new ring.

‘”Random” lol’ Pretty sure he knows what I’m planning; there’s no way Yuuri hasn’t told him. ‘Ok, we were at dinner and he kept asking what I was going to order and when the food came, he dropped something so I picked it up for him…he kept staring at me after that and then I noticed the ring on my spoon!’ Victor is seriously telling me that Yuuri slipped his ring on a piece of silverware while he was distracted? The story doesn’t end there. ‘I was surprised! He said he always wanted me in his life and never felt that way before…I said I’d always stay by his side and people clapped for us when he put the ring on my finger and we were engaged~’

And then they dressed their dogs up and got married under a setting sun: I’ve seen the pictures. The idea of hiding the ring is intriguing, but where would I hide it? There’d be no place if we were outdoors. Maybe I could do it at dinner like Yuuri did, but then I’d feel like I’m just copying him. Still, I don’t know what I’d even say. Did Yuuri plan way ahead, or was it on the fly? ‘That’s a nice story. Did he plan out what he was going to say?’

‘Somewhat? He said a lot btw…like a little speech but I won’t bore you with it all lol’

So Yuuri took the sappy route. Doesn’t surprise me. Phichit deserves something romantic like that, but I don’t have the time or desire to draft a short speech on why I want to marry him; I’d only stumble over my words and embarrass us both. Well, I guess Victor was generous with his time and sharing his experience, so I’m grateful for that, but I still don’t know what to say. ‘Ha, okay. Thanks for the insight.’

‘Np! Don’t say anything to Phichit about others before him, even if it’s positive, when you pop the question lol ok good luck~’

Helpful. Telling Phichit something like I’ve never been so sure about my future with anyone else will probably leave a bad taste; he might feel like I’m comparing him, and I’d never want him to feel like that at a time that’s supposed to be happy. Victor was useful after all! ‘Thanks!’ I ignore the following onslaught of encouraging emoji and debate seeking more advice. I need this to be perfect for Phichit, and I know the right words are out there somewhere. Coal nuzzles into me, a sign of reassurance to keep going. What do I have to lose? After scratching behind her ears, I dial a familiar number and hold my breath while it rings.

Otabek finally answers. “Seung Gil, what’s up?”

“My heartrate. I’m running out of time.” I groan, knowing I’m being unclear and knowing I don’t care.

“For…?”

“Today’s the day.” I remind him. “I’m going to ask tonight.” The conviction in my voice leads me to believe I’m steeling my nerves as much as giving an explanation. “Don’t know how, but I will.”

A beat passes before he remembers I can’t see him make any gestures like how we normally communicate. “Right, right. So you have plans for it?”

“I’m working on it. How’d you propose, anyway?” All I know is that he and Yuri agreed to get married, but not who asked who or how it went down. Otabek chuckles, probably shrugging, or something.

“It wasn’t exactly on purpose.”

What the fuck does that mean? They happened to fall on some rings and said ‘I do’? “How in hell do you get engaged by accident?”

My confusion makes him laugh more. “Not by accident! It just wasn’t planned out.” Right; still not adding up. “Okay, we were at a concert, right? Having a good time, singing and dancing and whatever. One of the bandmembers says something about how they want to continue making music until they can’t, and Yuri jabs me with his elbow and says we better be around for all of those concerts.” Was their engagement really implied in such terms? “I told him I wasn’t planning on going anywhere without him. Before we went home, we agreed to get the proper paperwork and find out when our families could get together.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Like Victor, Otabek has proven to be of little use. Phichit and I don’t speak through assumptions and guessing; we talk about things, even if it's like pulling teeth. There’s absolutely no way I’m being vague with him on this topic like Otabek was with Yuri, and no way I’m going the saccharine speech route like Yuuri and Victor. “Okay.” I sigh, defeated. “That works for you, I guess.”

“But you do you, man. What do you have planned?”

Great, now I have to spell out that I’m failing at this romance shit when it actually matters. “Dinner, and maybe a walk around downtown. He likes it there.” Hearing my plans out loud, I don’t feel entirely clueless, but I just know I’m missing something. “I’m not sure what else, but there’s gotta be something more.”

Otabek scoffs. “Why?”

I guess he wouldn’t understand: he's never asked anyone to marry him properly. “You know Phichit.” My boyfriend is special to me, so this event should be the same. “I want things to be nice.” 

“Got it. Well, maybe doing something different will surprise him more.”

Damn, that’s a good point: why do the same old dinner date for something so important? “Maybe you’re right.”

“Am I? You know him better than I do. It was just a suggestion.”

“Yeah, but now I’ve gotten to thinking.” I rub my eyes and lean forward, suddenly overwhelmed with different things we could do tonight. Dancing, karaoke, wine tasting, painting, pottery, concerts, galleries, bowling, skating, cooking, movies all come and go through my brain, but nothing sticks. “I’ll come up with something.” Not sure who I’m trying to convince, but whatever.

Another hour passes, and I’ve created a more solid outline since hanging up the phone and taking Coal out for a bit: Phichit will come home and be surprised to see me dressed up, I’ll wait for him to get ready, we'll talk about how amazing things have been since we met as we drive to dinner, I'll ask for the wine he liked last time and for them to play the song he helped sing on one of our first dates at the restaurant, ask him to dance to said song, skip dessert and walk around town, find a picturesque spot to stop and tell him how much better life is with him in it, more heartfelt words and the proposal, he'll want to take pictures, I’ll take him to my favorite bakery for something to share in celebration, we'll come home for aforementioned dessert and officially be engaged. A part of my brain nags that this plan is flawed somehow, but it's the most I’ve come up with all afternoon and it's this plan or nothing. I set out my wallet and keys by the door and stuff the ring box in my jacket pocket where I know I won’t lose it. I don’t want to mix up the jacket with my others, so I toss it on a side table in the living room. Phichit is due home any minute now, so I try to make my shower quick without cutting too many corners. I’m still scrubbing my scalp when my heart drops: the familiar sound of the front door is clear as crystal. I count the audible footsteps from the front room until the bathroom door swings open. “Babe, I’m home!”

“I see that.” I try not to let my annoyance seep into my voice, but I think the running water helps cover it, too. The surprise element of my plan is out the window and I have to move on.

“You almost done in there, or should I just join you?”

No harm in sharing, right? “I just got in, so go ahead.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice: Phichit quickly invades my space under the water, nearly shoving me out of the way. His eyes shut with a quiet sigh, leaning back and pinning me against the wall. “We ran a couple miles after yoga. I hate cardio.”

“It's good for you, though." I remind him, rubbing his shoulders with slow circles.

Phichit pouts, turning slightly to me. “So is cauliflower, but I’m not eating that shit.”

“How is cauliflower good for you?”

“It has an obscene amount of vitamin C, and like, antioxidants. It doesn’t matter, though, because it tastes like disappointment.” Phichit says this with such seriousness, I can’t help but laugh. “You need to rinse your hair.”

I nod, switching spots with him while he showers. More than once, he yawns without silence. “Tired?” I wrap my arms around his waist as he nods.

“Yeah, I’m beat. Wanna order in tonight?”

Um, no, that’d directly ruin all of the plans I made since waking up today. No, that’s not what tonight was supposed to entail. No, I was supposed to already be dressed and ready to go so we could leave as soon as possible. No, I already made reservations at a place that means something special. One look in his eyes and all of that becomes irrelevant: Phichit is worn out and wants to stay in tonight. It'll take away the stress from being out with other humans, so there’s a plus. A night in will be relaxing for both of us. Maybe with the pressure off, I can find the right words to say on bended knee. “If you want to.” I kiss his temple in case my hesitation was obvious. He smiles, small and sincere.

“I do.”

Once out of the shower, he steals my clothes and heads to the living room to order something. I, in turn, steal his dotted jumper and discreetly cancel our reservation in a hushed voice over the phone. Maybe he'll feel up for a walk with Coal later, and I can continue my plan from there. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be something. I find Phichit curled up on the sofa, Coal snuggled beside him in what I like to think is my spot. “That seat is taken.” I move her to the other side so Phichit can lean on me instead. “How was yoga?”

“We did a lot of stamina poses. I almost fell over, and then we went for a run. Yuuri seemed hellbent on getting some miles in, but we got to talk about some stuff.” Phichit sends me a grin, nudging my shoulder. “His sister is coming to visit, and he thinks she’s bringing someone with her. I don’t think she will, but Yuuri said she’s been kinda preoccupied lately, which isn’t like her at all.” He fills me in on when she'll be in town along with how she gets along with Victor. He also mentions a meet and greet with a musician that Mila invited him and some others to, located in town. He talks about a lunch with his coworkers at the clinic that will follow breakfast with the others from the radio station; I won’t see him until dinner that day. At some point, Phichit ends up with his head on my lap, feet swinging over the arm of the couch in socks that aren’t even close to matching. “We should watch a movie. Want to?”

Based on what the clock says, we won’t have time to watch something and go for a walk at a reasonable hour, let alone find a bakery that’ll still be open. We can no longer pick up my plan at any of its given points; the whole thing is moot. A part of me wants to get frustrated at my wasted preparations, but the more I think about it, the less I even want to put on decent clothes and drive to town at all. Maybe it's better to keep this moment to ourselves, to not do something planned or cliché. The knot in my stomach and the tension in my head ease at the promise of comfort, pressure suddenly off. Like magic, this whole proposal thing doesn’t seem like such a tall mountain to climb. “That actually sounds good.” I nod in agreement. “Not until the food gets here, though. I don’t want to pause in the middle.”

The doorbell rings a while later, Phichit springing to his feet at the thought of impending dinner. We don’t bother getting plates, eating right from the containers. Everything is going well until we reach the midway point of the movie: Phichit laughs at a funny line that I’m not certain was meant to be funny and gently smacks my arm. At this point, I find the noises of the TV fade, the scent of our meal dissipate, my heart slows down. Sitting on the sofa with Phichit so close, our dog at our feet, a simple dinner on the coffee table, an old sci-fi movie playing, I realize that this is much better than a formal dinner and an agenda. This is everything I want, and everything I hope to have in the future. The way he laughs at random scenes, feeds Coal scraps when he thinks I’m not looking, moves in closer when he has something to say, holds my hand at intense moments: this person is the one I want, just like this. He’s the one I want by my side and the one I want to be with until I can’t. It overwhelms me, like an enveloping force clenching my heart and lungs, putting my surroundings on hold. If I ever had any doubts about Phichit, they’ve all disappeared in an instant. “Babe.” His voice prompts air to resume flowing through me and heart to start back up again. “If I get ice cream, will you get some, too?” Phichit whispers between lines in an attempt to not disrupt the actors on the screen.

I blink a few times to return to the present, clearing my throat. “Yeah, i-if there’s enough.”

“Don’t pause; I can still hear!” He rushes to the kitchen and back with the carton and two spoons. I take one along with the ice cream and wait for him to settle in before eating. “We're almost out, so I just brought the rest.” Phichit covers us in a blanket, sure to tuck the ends in.

Even though I wasn’t sure I’d like cookie dough ice cream, I’m glad I gave it a shot. It's a real treasure. “Thank you, P.” I tap his spoon with mine and hold the container where we can both reach it. Again, I’m reminded of why I want to marry Phichit: sharing ice cream under a blanket is genuinely not something I want to do with another person. I don’t want someone else's jumper or blanket or spoon mingling with mine; I like sharing with Phichit.

By the time the movie's over, our coffee table is littered with trash and my boyfriend is dozing off beside me. I don’t want to wake him, but I can’t resist kissing his forehead, his cheeks. His dark eyes flutter open with a crooked smile. “I’m not asleep.”

I laugh, pulling him in closer. “I’m not convinced.”

“Is that so, Mr. Lee?” Phichit blinks away most of the sleep from his eyes, tugging at my collar. “I’ll prove it.” While I don’t need this proof, I won’t say no. His kiss is warm, more passionate than I expected. There’s a certain slowness to every movement, though, lulling me into a familiar sense of safety, of ease. Every kiss becomes more languid, drawn out and sweet with memories of dessert. My hands start to roam, slow but not delicate, down his shoulders, his back, under the pants he took from my drawer. “You taste so good.” Phichit whispers while trying to catch his breath.

“You feel so good.” Every part of him does, always does. I pull him into my lap and let him discard our clothes wherever they land. Hot kisses are leisurely pressed wherever he can get his mouth, a wet trail marking my chest, my neck, my lips. I don’t realize how fast my heart is beating until I can feel the same rhythm mirrored in Phichit’s chest when there’s finally no space left between us. Slow hips occupy all space in my brain, steal my breath away. Kisses muffle moans, but every sound echoes in my head. Gentle fingers wander and play, blood starts to burn beneath every touch. I thread my hands with his, pinning them to one end of the sofa and pulling us down, too. Phichit is beautiful, flushed, vocal, unhurried, mine. What’s more is that he’s picked me to be his: flawed and imperfect as I am, especially as when we met, he’s picked me. Words of praise and our names fill the room until there’s nothing left but waning moans and unfiltered panting. We're both too tired, too comfortable, to move much, so we end up side by side on the couch cushions, haphazardly under the blanket. One of Phichit’s hands still grips mine, warmth seeping into my skin. I drag my thumb up and down his ring finger, exhaling when I remember the main part of my plan, the only part still possible, has remained incomplete.

“Seung Gil?” His hoarse voice sounds a little unlike him. I kiss him before answering, not wanting to let lips like those go without attention for too long; that'd be a crime.

“What is it, beautiful?”

Phichit meets my gaze, a softness I’ve grown to adore in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

Have I given the impression that I’m not alright through a single silent sigh? I give his hand a small squeeze. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He presses his lips together before explaining. “There were some moments tonight where you just seemed…I don’t know, preoccupied? Like maybe you weren’t upset but there was something you wanted to talk about.” Oh shit; he knows something's up. “You know you can tell me anything, right? I won’t go thera-Phichit on you. At least not a hundred percent.”

How kind of him. I had been slightly irritated when all the planning I’d done went to waste, but none of that matters anymore. Tonight was wonderful and there’s no denying that. “I know, and I appreciate that. There’s nothing wrong, though, I promise.”

He hums in thought, deciding to nod after a second. “Okay. Well, then, on a scale from one to ten, ten being high on life and zero being all time low…” I don’t point out the flaw in his scale as it's been used often enough that it's useless to mention now. “How are you?” The last three words are emphasized by a tap of his finger on the back of my hand. I mean, I worked myself up for going out and being formal to have the plans that took all day and a handful of stress fall through, but I ended up naked in my boyfriend's arms, so I’d say I more than broke even.

It's good to leave room for improvement, so I won’t go with a perfect score. “I’d say I’m at over a nine, but not nine and a half.”

Phichit giggles, brushing hair off my forehead. “That’s really specific, but okay.”

“Just being honest.” I smirk back.

“Alright, so how can we get to ten before the night is over?”

It's like being hit with a wave of adrenaline, energy suddenly coursing through me, when he asks that question: I have an answer. I push up from the sofa, unceremoniously rummaging around in the pocket of the jacket I left tossed aside on the small table. When my fingers find the velvet box, they feel icy and start to tremble, but I know what I want and I know what I have to do. I hold the box between us, popping it open before I lose my nerve. My words get choked by anxiety for only a moment, pushed aside by my silly heart. “Be my husband?”

My question is met with a gasp followed by silence. He’s staring at the ring, jaw dropped, and I don’t know what to make of it. I hadn’t worried that he’d say no, more that I’d screw things up and ruin the moment, but now I’m beginning to panic. My stomach knots again, hands starting to shake. Are those…tears in his eyes? Mentally, alarms start to go off in warning but without any further instructions on what to do; I just sit there with a meltdown at the ready. “I…I’m sorry.” Phichit sobs, covering his whole face. Do I reach out, or does he not want me to touch him? He sits up, wiping at his face. “I don’t know why I’m crying.” His words break on something of a laugh, shaking his head. “Okay, maybe I do know. I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

His face reddens, smile chased away. “Because I didn’t think anybody would ever want to commit to me for…forever. Not that I think I’m unlovable, but…forever?”

All is understood: Phichit didn’t think somebody would volunteer to spend their life with him. A physical pain blooms in my chest, sad for the doubts he’s been holding onto about himself and his value. I mean, I didn’t really think I’d ever find someone I’d want to marry, but once I got to know Phichit, that changed. I don't want him to hurt, to feel shocked at this development. I pull him in for a hug, probably too hard. “Of course.” I tell him while he gets used to being suffocated. “You’re amazing. You’re the best thing that's happened to me.” While I didn’t plan these words, I know they’re the right ones: his returned embrace tells me so. “I want us to be together and I don’t want to let you go.” I mean that both figuratively and literally. “I want you to be my husband, and I want to be yours.”

Without warning, Phichit pulls away only to come back with an insistent kiss. The force pushes me backwards, into the arm of the sofa. He pulls away again, a smile replacing all the shock from a moment ago. “You mean all that.” It's not a question but an affirmation. “You overwhelm me.” Phichit laughs, clearing away any leftover tears. He must be feeling that same time-stopping moment that I had earlier: the one that says everything is as it should be and it's real.

“You're safe, though.” These words come out of nowhere. I don’t even remember thinking them, but they sit well. I watch him nod, grinning brightly.

“I am. And I will, Seung Gil.” Phichit nods again. “I will marry you.”

Now I can die happy: he said yes! I ask once more, just to be sure, and he laughs with another solid agreement. Right now, I should put the ring on, but I kiss him instead. I kiss him like he’s the only other person who exists. “You're everything to me.” My voice is hardly more than a whisper, shakier than I intended, but I’m overwhelmed, too. Carefully, I take the ring from the box and hold his hand out, smiling at the way it quivers so slightly. Thanks to insider knowledge from a certain best friend, it's a perfect fit.

“It's gorgeous!” Phichit beams, inspecting the diamonds at different angles.

“Only the best for my fiancé.”

He shouts at that word, excitement no longer contained. “I’m a fiancé! I have a fiancé!” Phichit babbles about these new titles, bouncing on the sofa. He throws a pair of pants to the corner of the room where Coal is snuggled with some raggedy apron, catching her attention. “Coal, he asked me to marry him and I said yes!” Coal promptly resumes sleeping, so Phichit turns to me. “We're engaged! Seung Gil, I’m engaged to my favorite person on the planet!” He pulls me down, lying bare against the couch. His lips are ravenous, locking with mine until we can’t breathe. I kiss down his neck, stopping at his collarbone when he slightly pushes me away. “Hold on there, buddy.” He flashes his ring at me with a wicked smirk. “I have a fiancé.” The absurdity of this gesture makes me laugh but in no way deters me from kissing Phichit over and over, on every available inch. He wraps his limbs around me, carding fingers through my hair. “Make me yours again?” He asks, insatiable as ever, breathless at my ear when I bite his shoulder.

“Always.” I promise for tonight and for the rest of our nights. Things won't always be so simple, so perfect; I know this. Having someone like Phichit on my side makes me feel better about it, though, like I don’t need to worry about what the future holds because I know it’ll be good. And when it isn’t, I know we can get through anything until it is again. Maybe the whole proposal thing wasn‘t as hard as I thought it would be, but nothing comes as naturally to me as loving Phichit: he makes that part really easy.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaahhh, it actually feels complete now! Thank you to anyone who reads this: I appreciate the time you’ve taken to share in my little world XD An enormous thank you to Nerd: your continued support reminds me of why I love writing so much, and I wish you all the best cuz you’re the best ♡


End file.
